Among the Champagne and the Stars
by welcome to maddieland
Summary: "You just never really know what's going on behind closed doors." Over the course of one summer, Kristen Gregory gets caught up in the love triangle of the century. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**notes** : Inspired by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I don't have much time to write these days, but I've had this one sitting in my heart for a while now.

* * *

I was 17 when my parents got divorced. Dad's art dealing business had been dwindling for years, and in the summer before my senior year of high school, Mom told him to leave and find a new job. It was implied that he would get to return once he started making money again, but by the time he locked down a stable job the following spring, Mom was no longer interested.

Dad moved to downtown White Plains, and Mom and I moved into a townhome in Ossining, a strictly middle-class part of Westchester County. We turned our little home into a sorority house, scattering lipstick tubes across the kitchen counter and hanging bras on the doorknobs. We were happy.

On the day they separated, I drove over to my friend Alicia's house and sat on her bed for hours, puzzling through the big news.

"I just don't understand," Alicia said, her voice in genuine anguish. "Money was tight, sure, but your parents seemed so happy."

I frowned at her, wondering how she hadn't seen this coming the way I had. Then I shrugged and simply said, "You just never really know what's going on behind closed doors."

-x-

Claire and I were having one of our usual post-frat house brunches when she made me the offer.

"What's the status on your summer job?" she asked.

"I think Dad is emailing some of his old co-workers," I said.

Claire narrowed her eyes at me, and I affixed her with the patented Kristen Gregory Death Stare. Claire was my cousin; we'd grown up minutes apart in Rye. After sixth grade, the Lyonses moved down to Orlando, and my parents moved into a more affordable suburb of Westchester in an effort to make ends meet. We kept in close contact for the better part of six years, and we met in the middle at Vanderbilt, where we both pledged the same sorority and became little sisters to the same big.

"You waited too long," Claire said admonishingly.

"They don't really hand internships out to English majors," I sighed. "Besides, we've got another month left in the semester. Something could turn up."

"Yeah, a month left in the second semester of our junior year," Claire said. "Lucky for you, I found something."

"Unlike you, I can't go waltzing off to D.C. or some other fancy city—"

"It's in Kissimmee," Claire interrupted.

Throughout high school, the Lyonses had lived in Orlando and spent their summers in Kissimmee, sunning themselves on Lake Toho. Once Claire and Todd, her younger brother, had graduated from high school, Aunt Judi and Uncle Jay moved to the lake house for good.

"There's a bookstore down there that Todd and I used to work at in the summer," Claire said. "They're looking for some new summer help, and they want someone who can tweet and blog for them. I told them to hire you."

"But my mom—"

"Marcia thinks it's a great idea," Claire said. "And the shop owner should have contacted you by now. Check your email."

I tapped my phone screen and found two emails—one from my mother, stating how excited she was, and another from a woman named Valerie, asking me about my summer availability.

"What would I do without you?" I asked, shaking my head in amazement.

"Life would be a much duller place," Claire said with a grin. "You'll live with Mom and Dad at the lake house. You can drive my old car to work. Todd will be there all summer, too."

I scrolled through Valerie's email again. Social media for an independent bookstore. I couldn't think of anything more that I wanted to do with my life.

"Really, Claire," I said, my voice wavering. "Thank you."

Claire snorted. "Don't thank me just yet. Mom invited Todd's girlfriend to spend the summer there too."

-x-

Even though I knew Claire better than I knew myself, I'd never quite figured out Todd. Growing up, I'd always thought of him as a snot-nosed brat. Even at holidays, I'd hardly ever interacted with him—I'd always been too preoccupied with catching up with Claire, and we had more than enough boy cousins for him to go play with. I knew that he and Claire were closer than they let on, though. Todd and Claire could give each other a single look across the kids' table and burst out laughing, never letting the other cousins in on their endless secrets.

So it was with curiosity and a little hesitance that I landed in the Orlando airport in early June. Uncle Jay was there to greet me with a Bojangles bag in hand.

"I figured that it's been a while since you've had one of these," Jay said. I grabbed the bag out of his hand a little too eagerly.

"New Yorkers have little appreciation for fried chicken," I said. "I think I binge-ate chicken biscuits the entire last week I was down at Vanderbilt."

"Just wait till you try Whataburger," Jay chuckled. I grinned at him. I always missed the fast food when I had to go back up north—Tim Horton's donuts could only sustain me for so long.

"Sorry that you couldn't get a direct flight into Kissimmee," Jay said as we got into his Escalade. "We thought about sending our plane up to Westchester for you, but Judi told me not to be ridiculous."

I blinked at him, startled. Both in Westchester and at Vanderbilt, it was considered rude to flaunt your wealth. Every once in a while, though, indications of a parent's income trickled through. A Dior formal dress, an Instagram of a yacht, my own uncle offering to fly me on the Lyons family private plane so that we wouldn't have to suffer the forty-minute drive from Orlando to Kissimmee.

Our ride was easy, though. We quickly finished an order of Cajun fries from Bojangles and laughed in unison as we licked the seasoning off our fingers. I learned about Todd, who had finished his first year at University of South Carolina. He was aiming to get into the business school, but he was keen on minoring in film studies—apparently after watching _The Usual Suspects_ at age 14, he developed a rabid love of cinema. I was surprised to hear that he had such an artsy interest; the last time I'd seen Todd, he'd burped in Claire's face before returning to some violent Xbox game.

We came to a stop in front of a quiet lake house I'd only ever seen in Facebook photos. Jay hadn't even turned off the car before a short Hispanic woman came bounding out of the front door. She opened Jay's car door as well as mine.

"Welcome! I'm Inez," the woman said in near-perfect English, eagerly shaking my hand.

"Inez helps us out around the house," Jay explained. "Feel free to ask her for anything."

"So nice to meet you," I said, feeling a little breathless.

"She'll be staying in the other guest room," Jay said. Inez nodded and began pulling my suitcases out of the trunk.

"I can get those," I offered, but Inez rolled away with my luggage before I could help.

What seemed modest from the front gave way to high ceilings and fine furniture on the inside. An island kitchen was being filled with food on my left while a Tiffany lamp gently lit the living room on my right. Above the stone fireplace was a vintage map of Lake Toho with a hand-scrawled star marking the location of the Lyons' house.

Lake Toho was huge; on paper, it seemed to take up as much room as Kissimmee itself. The Lyons family home rested on one of two peninsulas shaped like little fists, affectionately called Right Hook and Left Hook. The Lyonses lived on Right Hook, which was all mahogany and maids' quarters. Left Hook was for those seeking marble countertops and bedroom-sized closets.

"Majestic, isn't it?" Jay said. It took me a minute to realize he was referring to the view of the lake from his picture window, not the opulence of Hook families. I crossed the room and nearly pressed my nose to the sliding glass door.

"Truly," I replied. I couldn't wait to get in to the glittering waters.

"Judi and I are in the back," Jay explained, gesturing to his left. "So is Todd. We put his girlfriend up in the guest house—we're hoping to keep them a little separated this summer—and we've made up a room for you there too."

Jay slid open the back door and gently pushed me onto the porch.

"Todd's so excited that you're here," Jay said. "Go on, Judi will catch up with you later."

I rounded the corner of the main house and quietly opened the door to the guest house. A short hallway led me to a large main room with a pool table and the largest flatscreen television I'd ever seen. Two heads, one red, one brown, peeked out from above a pristine white couch. Through the windows I spied a lithe blonde laying out in the grass.

The redhead turned to me with a grin.

"Kristen Gregory," Todd drawled. "It's been too long."


	2. Chapter 2

"Todd," I laughed as he pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. He was so tall now—taller than me, and surely taller than Claire. A sleepy-eyed, towheaded boy remained rooted to the couch, staring at me curiously.

"Kristen, this is Derrick Harrington," Todd said, gesturing towards his friend. "He's staying with his grandparents, they live three houses down."

"We've been friends for so long that I basically live here," Derrick said. He turned his attention back to the TV as if he were bored of me already. Northern attitude. I liked him already.

"Here, you've got to meet—" In lieu of finishing his sentence, Todd bounded across the room and yanked open the back door. "Olivia! My cousin's here!"

The blonde girl rolled off of her beach towel and made her way back into the house. To my surprise, she wasn't wearing a bikini—she was wearing a crop top and shorts. A devotional was clutched in her hands.

"Kristen!" she cried. She tossed her devotional onto the couch, where it landed neatly by Derrick. "So wonderful to meet you!" She pulled me into a hug. I stiffened a bit—I wasn't the hugging type.

"How was your flight?" Todd asked, falling back onto the couch next to Derrick. Olivia settled in on the other side of Derrick, and they smiled at me in unison. Only then did Derrick finally relinquish his Xbox controller and turn to me.

"It was fine," I said, sitting down on the loveseat adjacent to their couch.

"Do they miss me in New York?"

"Everyone's always asking me when you and Claire are coming back," I said. Todd grinned.

"I can't go back," Todd sighed. "I fell in love with Chik-fil-a. I can't go where there aren't chicken biscuits."

"I know how you feel," I groaned, feeling a pang of longing for Nashville.

"So you're at Vanderbilt?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, with Claire," I replied.

"What sorority are you in?" she pressed. It was all I could do not to laugh—people down here always judged you by your letters.

"Kappa Delta," I said cautiously.

"Me too!" Olivia chirped. I breathed out a sigh that I didn't even know I'd been holding in. Chapter reputations varied across the South, but she and I were sisters, technically. She couldn't look down on me now.

"I know you're Kappa Sig, Todd, but what about you, Derrick?" A wave of weariness came over me as it always did when I entered a Greek life conversation. I loved my sorority, and I loved that Claire and I were bonded by two different kinds of families, but I didn't place my Greek membership above all else the way some Vanderbilt girls did.

"DKE at UVA," Derrick said.

"Where are you originally from?" I asked.

"Fairfield," he replied.

"Westchester," I said, and we nodded at each other. Northern kids detouring at Southern Ivy Leagues before returning to New York City, the only place to be. We were cut from the same cloth.

Something beeped from the corner of the room, and then Jay's voice crackled over the intercom. "Everybody to the main house, please."

Todd, Derrick, and Olivia simultaneously rolled their eyes.

"Now, guys."

The three of them huffed and got off the couch. I followed them as they trudged out the front door and across the porch back into the house.

"Your mother's book club ran over and now she's craving sushi, so I'm just going to meet her downtown," Jay said as we gathered in the living room. "You four are on your own, but Martha went ahead and made some chicken and pasta. I left some bottles in the fridge. Have fun!"

Martha, a motherly Hispanic woman standing by the stove, cleared her throat.

"Um, Todd, just remember what we talked about," Jay said. Olivia and Todd blushed. "Your mother and I will be back before 11."

Jay headed out of the living room, and the four of us were left staring at Martha, who was stirring a pot of pasta sauce like nothing had happened. I glanced at Derrick, and he shook his head.

"Wine, guys?" Todd asked, clearly trying to break through the awkward silence.

"None for me, thanks," Olivia said loudly. Todd looked to me.

"Please," I said. Derrick headed into the living room and started pouring a glass for himself from a decanter of whisky. I opted for a Yellow Tail moscato.

We settled down onto couches in the living room and exchanged pleasantries about my trip down here for five minutes longer before Martha called us to dinner. As we sat down at the dining room table, I almost forgot that we were all barely out of our teens—I felt like a proper adult with my wine and chicken and pasta in that million dollar house.

"So why are you here again?" Olivia asked.

"I'm working for this independent bookstore for the summer," I said. "I'm helping them with their social media and sales."

"Claire and I used to work there in the summer all through high school," Todd added.

"That's so fun," Olivia said. I both loved and distrusted the way she talked—her tone was impossibly genuine.

"What about you?" I asked. "Are you just here to hang out?"

"Oh wow, no," Olivia replied. "I'm interning with a ministry in Orlando. It's a bit of a drive, but it's more sensible to stay here than rent out some place up there."

It took all I had to keep from bursting out laughing. Of course Todd was dating a Bible beater. The Lyonses had always been strict Methodists. Claire never missed a Young Life meeting and Todd was much of the same. Claire still drank with all the frat stars, though—once she'd gotten blackout drunk and attempted to recite the Lord's Prayer backwards. Todd had had similar drunken mishaps, from what I'd heard from Claire, but now here he was, abstaining along with holier-than-thou Olivia. Something had changed.

"That's wonderful," I said, accidentally mimicking her overly sincere tone. Derrick choked on his whiskey a bit, but neither Todd nor Olivia noticed.

Olivia beamed. "Is God in your life, Kristen?"

"I'm Episcopalian," I replied automatically. "I go with Claire to Young Life a lot." It was all a lie—I hadn't been to church since before the divorce, and I only went to Young Life with Claire if absolutely begged. I didn't discount those who were church-y, I just didn't get any personal gratification from it myself.

Olivia opened her mouth as if to launch into some ministry spiel, but Derrick cut her off. "So you're a communications major?"

I bristled. I didn't like the implications that came with the so-called 'easy major'. "English, actually."

Derrick nodded. At the far end of the table, Olivia's phone lit up.

"Aw, Danny liked my Instagram! Look!" She held up her phone for Todd to see. He smiled, but more at her than at her glowing iPhone. Derrick shot me an uncomfortable look.

"That reminds me, I left my phone in the other house," Derrick said. "Did you leave yours there too, Kristen?"

His foot knocked against mine under the table. "Yeah, I did. I'll go with you."

I followed him outside, avoiding Todd's suspicious look. When we got back to the guest house, I watched Derrick poke around in the couch cushions, bemused.

"Sorry, I just don't like when Olivia gets on her Jesus tangent," Derrick said. "And the fact that she's bringing up Danny. I just don't know how Todd isn't seeing through it."

"What do you mean?"

"You know who Danny is, right?"

Of course I knew who Danny Robbins was. He'd gone to Lakeside Prep with Claire and Todd, and even though he was two grades above Todd, he'd supposedly changed Todd's life. Danny was the one to convince Todd to go to USC, to major in business, to pledge Kappa Sig, to stay in Young Life.

"Yeah, I've heard a fair bit about Danny," I said.

"Then you know that he and Olivia dated when she was a freshman," Derrick said, finally extracting his phone from between the couch cushions.

"How could that be?" I asked, frowning at the stairs.

"She's a year older than Todd," Derrick explained. "In the grade below you. They dated for a semester, then Todd came waltzing in the next year, and it was like Danny had been priming her for him or something. He became Todd's big brother in Kappa Sig and they all act like it's not awkward, but I really honestly think that she never got over it. She's still crushing on Danny and I swear that all the signs are pointing to them hooking up, or whatever it is that you do when you like someone but refuse to have sex before marriage."

I fell back onto the couch, trying to take it all in.

"C'mon, they'll start to wonder what we're up to," Derrick said and reached out a hand to pull me back up. "I'm glad you see through the bullshit, though."

I laughed and skipped onto the porch, the feeling of his hand still on my wrist.

When we sat back down at the table, Olivia and Todd were still completely absorbed in each other. I began gulping my wine, and Olivia broke out of her trance to stare at me with concern.

"So what's the name of the bookstore, Kristen?" Derrick asked, digging into his pasta.

"Blue Willow Bookshop," I replied.

"Oh, so you must know Massie," Derrick said. Todd dropped his fork with a loud clang.

"Massie?" he demanded. "Who's named Massie?"

"Some girl I met at a party last week," Derrick said around a mouthful of spaghetti. "Apparently Blue Willow is like her favorite place in Kissimmee, like she goes there every day or something."

"Valerie hasn't mentioned her," I said carefully. Todd looked like he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

"Right, you haven't started yet," Derrick said. "Sorry, it feels like you've been here for three years already."

"I'm glad that I've fooled you already," I said. Only later did I realize what an odd thing it was for me to say. Unlike them, I had nothing to hide.


	3. Chapter 3

I arrived at Blue Willow Bookshop early the next morning, and I was surprised to find that it wasn't much of a bookstore at all. One half - a small half - was a bookshop reminiscent of my elementary school library, all tall wooden shelves and displays for _Fancy Nancy_. The other half, though, was a chic patisserie with a menu boasting crepes, macarons, and lemon-lime spritzers.

"I'm so glad you're here," Valerie said as I stepped into the shop. She was a tall woman, mid-forties, with a brown bob and a mom-like figure. She wore khaki pants and a blue button-down. I far out-dressed her in my coral pencil skirt and navy blouse.

"I'm so glad to be here!" I chirped, inserting some Olivia-like enthusiasm into my tone. I'd only been around the girl for 14 hours and I was already talking like her. "The shop looks different than I expected."

"Oh, right," Valerie said, rolling her eyes. "We ran into some financial issues a few years ago - Kindles, you know? We decided to combine with the French bakery down the way. We went in with them to buy the property between us and knocked out all the walls. Now our customers can sip cafe au laits while they browse books. Genius, isn't it?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, admiring the selection of squishy armchairs scattered around the shop.

"Now we're just having trouble maintaining a social media presence," Valerie said. "The people who know about us love us, and we've gotten a steady stream of business through the crepe shop too, but I don't know how to work the Tweeter."

"Twitter," I said quietly.

"Exactly," Valerie said. "I need help."

"What has the patisserie done so far?" I asked.

"Nothing," Valerie replied. "They're all word-of-mouth."

"Okay, well, personally, I think this place is perfect for Instagram."

"How does that work?"

We spent the rest of the morning picking out Instagram filters while occasionally selling books. Valerie taught me how to work the cash register, and I taught her how to hashtag.

After taking pictures of a _Where the Wild Things Are_ display from at least five different angles, I finally collapsed into a white parlor chair on the patisserie side of the shop. Julian, the patisserie owner, set a honey vanilla latte on my table free of charge.

"Thank you so much," I said. He nodded at me and returned to organizing cake orders.

I had just pulled up Facebook on my phone when the shop doorbell tinkled. A slender girl in a powder blue Comfort Colors tee and bright yellow monogrammed shorts waltzed in. She pushed her Ray Bans to the top of her head and grinned at Julian.

"Meez Block!" Julian cheered. "The usual?"

"Please and thank you," the girl said. Her frocket read 'Theta Spring Formal 2013'. She lazily glanced over at me and jumped a little, her amber eyes going wide.

I felt uncomfortable under her gaze - I'd never met anyone with such distinctly yellow eyes. She, however, was staring at me like she knew me from somewhere. I opened my mouth to ask her if she needed help, but Julian cut me off by announcing that her latte was ready. She quickly grabbed it and retreated to a dark corner of the bookstore. She only reappeared when Julian brought out her crepe.

She spent at least an hour and a half in the store, her pale pink toes kicked up on an ottoman and just barely peeking out from around a bookshelf. Every so often, we heard a slurp or a giggle. Valerie largely ignored her.

Just as I made my sixth sale of the day to an elderly man, the girl left her plate and cup on the patisserie counter and bolted out the door. Once I was done with the transaction, I turned to Valerie with a quizzical look.

"She comes here every day but Sunday," Valerie said with a shrug. "I tried talking to her once, but she got this cagey look in her eyes. Julian gets along with her well, but he can never pronounce her name - he says it's Macy but I think it's something with a hard A. Anyway, she buys a new book every Friday and always orders the same crepe."

"Doesn't that bother you?" I asked.

"Nah," Valerie said. "We get oddballs in here all the time. She's young. I kind of hope she'll bring more college kids in here."

"Quirky," I muttered. Valerie smirked at me.

-x-

My days quickly fell into a pattern. I'd get up at 7, same time as Olivia, and we'd spend 30 minutes taking breakfast out on the dock. She was easy to talk to. We both agreed that while we liked Kappa Delta, it wasn't everything. She was grateful for her sorority, because it had led her to Todd and Danny (cliched meetings at mixers), but she valued her Young Life membership more than anything else. That had shown her what Todd and Danny were really like, and it had helped her decide to jump into a relationship with Todd ("Which was probably one of the best decisions I've ever made").

One morning, we talked about One Direction for so long that she ended up running late for work. Another morning, though, she tried in vain to witness to me.

"Things will be exponentially better once you let God into your life," she pleaded.

"I go to Young Life with Claire," I said, trying to stay as noncommittal as possible.

"Claire says that you've only been with her three times in two years," Olivia countered.

"I would really hate for you to be late to work," I said. She checked the time on her phone and resigned her efforts.

I'd usually spend another 30 minutes sitting inside, pondering things over a cup of coffee and watching Olivia run around getting ready. She'd always pray for at least 10 minutes before throwing on a skirt and bouncing out the door. She even wore crop tops to work, which I dismissed as a California thing—she originally hailed from Los Angeles.

I'd spend the rest of my day making clever tweets and sipping lattes at Blue Willow. It wasn't a bad way to spend a summer. I knew that I wasn't doing anything that would particularly advance my career the way Claire or Olivia were, but I enjoyed getting paid to languish.

-x-

Two and a half weeks into my job, the mysterious Block girl finally reached out to me.

She always wore a variation of the same outfit - oversized Comfort Colors tee and shorts. Paint-stained leggings would come out on days that it was supposed to rain. Her light brown hair always stayed curled into perfect ringlets, and the pale pink polish on her toes never chipped.

"You're working here this summer?" She asked, setting her latest read down onto the counter. It was a Friday, which was her usual book-buying day. I glanced at the title. _Crazy Rich Asians_. She'd already dog-eared one of the pages.

"Yeah, I'm here till late August," I said as I rang her up.

"That's great," she said. She lacked Olivia's genuine inflection. Her tone had more of a bite to it. "I love it here."

"I can tell," I said wryly. She smiled at me.

"Well if you're here, you may as well have a little fun," she said. She signed her receipt, then reached into her Michael Kors bag and pulled out a sticky note pad. She scribbled a message onto the note and stuck it to my shoulder. I twitched. I didn't like unsolicited contact any more than I liked hugs.

"See you there!" she said before waltzing out the door.

I pulled the sticky off my shirt and glanced at its message.

 _Party_

 _Kennedy Theme_

 _926 Cypress Cove Drive_


	4. Chapter 4

When I got off work, I went straight to Derrick with my sticky note, which I'd only just noticed had the Wake Forest logo stamped in the corner.

I got lucky - Derrick was already at the Lyons' house, pounding away at an Xbox controller in the guest house with Todd.

"Why do you dress up so much if you just work at a bookstore?" Derrick asked without looking at me when I entered the common room. Todd punched him in the arm and continued to kill some zombified presence on the screen.

I frowned at my blush pink tulle skirt and grey top. "This is business casual."

"You look like a ballerina on a coffee break," Derrick said.

"But that's exactly what I am," I shot back. He finally looked at me and grinned. Todd finally paused the game.

"Some kooky girl at the bookstore gave me this today." I handed Derrick the sticky note. His eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah, I've been to parties at this house before!" he exclaimed. "They're killer. Want to go?"

"Sure," I said, not thinking twice. "What does she mean by 'Kennedy theme'?"

Derrick held up a finger and pulled up an event on Facebook on his phone. "John F. Kennedy theme. Here, I'll invite you on FB."

My phone pinged. The event was simply titled, 'Kissimmee Nights - JFK theme'. The event description instructed its guests to emulate John F Kennedy and Jackie O in their attire.

"I have a yellow shift dress that would be perfect for this," I said, scrolling through the event's wall posts. It seemed like every bored teenager in Kissimmee was coming out.

Todd cleared his throat.

"Dude, you don't even drink anymore," Derrick said.

"But that doesn't mean I can't go," Todd protested. His phone buzzed before he could continue. Derrick grabbed it.

"'Want to watch _Tree of Life_ again tonight? My boss wants me to take notes on it for a potential outreach event.'" Derrick read Olivia's latest text to Todd aloud to us in an impossibly chipper imitation of her voice.

"Give me that," Todd snapped, grabbing the phone out of Derrick's hand.

"You're not going to this party with her around," Derrick said.

"I totally could go," Todd said. "But I've been meaning to watch _Tree of Life_ again. I've got some questions about the whole nature versus grace debate that I think could be answered by rewatching it-"

"Okay, Roger Ebert, we get it," Derrick said. Todd got Derrick into a headlock, and Derrick quickly responding by smashing his fist into Todd's crotch. While Todd reeled in pain, Derrick told me that he'd pick me up at 10 before running out the back door.

-x-

I came out of my room around 9:45 in a lemon-yellow sleeveless sheath dress. Olivia and Todd were in the middle of _The Tree of Life_. Both looked like they were about to pass out from how mind-numbingly slow the film was, but they seemed doggedly determined to finish the movie.

"Wait, you look amazing," Olivia said, pausing the film with a noticeable sense of relief.

"Thanks," I replied, trying to adjust my boobs within the dress. Todd rolled his eyes at me.

"So you're really going to go out with Derrick?" Olivia asked, resting her chin on the back of the couch. Todd did the same, and they glanced up at me with similar puppy dog expressions. Despite Derrick's worries about Danny, I'd never once questioned in three weeks why they were together.

"I mean, it's not, like, a date," I said, clasping a small string of pearls around my neck.

"He's a good guy, Kris," Todd said. "He seems to really enjoy having you around."

My hands shook as I squeezed my feet into nude pumps. I hated that my self-worth was assessed by whether or not I was dating. I'd had a couple of boyfriends in high school, but they'd both been duds. Mom had never once questioned why I wasn't settled down; she was perfectly amused by my string of random, sometimes meaningless, college hookups. But down south, things were different. Claire never openly expressed it, but I knew she stressed about getting married by age 25, just like Judi. She had dated and broken up with a different fraternity boy every semester since we'd started at Vanderbilt. Some were in Young Life; others frequented Lutheran or Presbyterian fellowships on campus. They all were puzzled by me, though, the girl who was practically Claire's sister, yet preferred one night stands to courtships.

"I'll think about it," I said. It was the same answer I gave when Claire's Young Life frat boyfriends brought over their pledge brothers for me.

My phone buzzed. "Here," Derrick had texted me. No exclamations, no emoji. I smiled at my phone and skipped up the stairs.

-x-

"You look nice," Derrick said as I entered his car. He drove a black Lexus - sensible, but just nice enough to flaunt his wealth.

"You look dapper yourself," I replied. He was wearing a blue button-down, khaki shorts, and boat shoes. Not a negotiating-the-Cuban-missile-crisis JFK, but an about-to-go-yachting-in-Nantasket JFK. "Did you drive your car all the way down from Connecticut?"

"Kind of," he said. "I drove it down to UVA to have at school, then drove it straight down here once school ended. I didn't ship it, if that's your question."

"Not exactly," I mumbled.

"My parents don't let me spend money just for the sake of spending it," he explained. "I'm at UVA on a partial soccer scholarship. I had to beg them to let me spend the summer down here this year. They wanted me to go for a paid internship on Wall Street."

"I know you're grounded, Derrick," I said lightly. "I wouldn't be here with you now if you weren't."

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to warn you before we entered the house of the rich and debauched," he said as we turned onto Cypress Cove Drive.

We had to park at the very end of the street, and even then there were still cars vying for a space. Everyone flocked towards the house at the end of the lane—an imposing three-story stone house, lit up from every corner. I could feel the bass thumping from five houses down.

The house was grand in size but modest in décor, as though the owner had been foolish enough to think that decorating a Left Hook house would be as easy as furnishing a rental cottage in Myrtle Beach. Worn-in couches sat atop fraying rugs; dusty deer heads stared down at us with a palpable sense of weariness. It was no wonder that everyone around us was pushing us down the stairs and out into the backyard, which glittered at us through a smoky haze.

Twinkle lights were hung everywhere, which I suspected had less to do with the JFK theme and more with a desire for a Pinterest-esque ambience. Throughout the patio, a dozen entertainments were scattered - a pool table here, a beer pong table over there, and a bar boasting every liquor imaginable in the center of it all. Where the stone patio ended, grassy knolls began, which eventually led to the gentle lapping waters of Lake Toho.

All around me were girls in pillbox hats and boys in boat shoes. Some boys had taken the JFK theme to mean a general America theme, and were simply wearing patriotic tanks from their respective fraternities. Other girls had taken Jackie O for Jackie Ho and were wearing Chanel-pink lingerie with pillbox hats and their grandmother's pearls. Everyone was laughing, dancing, crying, or doing a little bit of all three. And everyone was downing daiquiris and champagne like they had nowhere to be in the morning.

This was what the frat parties at Vanderbilt had always aimed to be. I loved it instantly.

As Talk Dirty to Me faded out over the blaring speakers, Bobby Darin's Mack the Knife picked up. On the dock, a girl in a baby blue shift dress moved closer to a guy wearing a full-on suit and tie. He spun her around, swing dance-style, and she laughed with delight.

It was the girl from the bookstore. I began to walk over to say hello, but Derrick dragged me over to the bar.

"The usual, Mister Harrington?" the bartender asked.

"Plus one, please," Derrick said. The bartender handed over two bottles of Veuve. Derrick popped one and handed it over to me. I burst out laughing.

"I can't drink this whole thing!" I protested.

"When was the last time you were really, truly drunk?" Derrick asked, popping his own bottle and taking a hearty swig.

I sighed in defeat. "It's been too long."

By the time I got through half the bottle, I was fantastically drunk, scream-shouting all the words to Roses and shrieking at girls whose dresses I liked. Derrick and I clung to each other, falling into a mob of other sweaty, dancing couples.

"It's too hot," I whined after about ten minutes of dancing. Derrick dragged me out of the clump and led me over to the water. It made perfect sense for me to strip down to my underwear and jump in. Derrick ripped off his shirt and followed after.

I shrieked when I hit the slimy bottom of the lake and nearly propelled myself into Derrick's arms; he didn't seem to mind standing in the mud. We stared at each other, wondering what was to happen next. He reached out, seemingly to cup my face in his hands, when someone called to us from above.

"Blue Willow Girl," Miss Block shouted from the dock, still pristinely dressed in her blue shift. "I'm so glad you made it."


	5. Chapter 5

"Bookstore Girl!" I cried, waving up at her. "Come play in the water!" I slapped the surface of the lake and sent a fountain of water splashing up to Derrick's face. He sputtered and glanced up at the amber-eyed girl, annoyed.

"Oh, hey Massie," Derrick said. The name triggered a memory—Todd had gotten startled when Derrick mentioned her at dinner.

"Wait, what's your name?" I slurred.

"Massie Block," the girl said, curling her toes over the edge of the dock. We swam towards her. She gently picked up my yellow dress.

"Schmidt!" Massie called out. A portly man waddled up to her. "See that this gets dry-cleaned as soon as possible." I noticed with hazy dismay that my dress had landed in a puddle. Hopefully the lake water hadn't ruined the material.

The boy Massie had been dancing with tugged on her elbow. She pointedly ignored him and crouched down to talk to us.

"I'll lend you one of my kimonos," she said. "Derrick, I'm so glad to see you again. Why don't y'all get out and we can catch up?"

I blinked, startled by her twangy tone. Derrick pulled himself up onto the dock and I followed, only half-aware that my wet underwear was now see-through.

Within moments, it seemed, a silk robe appeared around my shoulders, and a glass of water landed in one hand while I gripped a flute of champagne in the other. My hair became twisted up in a Ralph Lauren towel, and I was tucked into a sturdy, but well-loved couch. I could have fallen asleep if it weren't for another girl in the room, similarly tucked into an old armchair and picking at a chicken biscuit. I desperately wanted a bite, but wasn't sure how to ask.

"Isn't it amazing?" the girl whispered to me in awe. "This town was dead. There was nothing to do on Fridays. She brought it back."

The girl was referring to Massie, and I realized with a jolt that she and Derrick had left me. I pulled myself out of the couch and wandered up the first flight of stairs I stumbled upon. I found myself in the living room, which was only marginally nicer than the basement I'd been left in. A trail of wet footprints led to another staircase, where they sat on the landing, their heads tilted towards each other conspiratorially. A certain intimacy was missing from the moment, though—I'd walked in on a confession of guilt, not a declaration of love. I began to walk away, confident that Derrick wasn't about to go to bed with her, when Massie looked up.

"So sorry we left you down there!" she cried out, jumping up from the landing and flying down the stairs. "Let me make it up to you. There's an after-party in my—"

"Nope," Derrick cut in. "It's time for bed."

"I'll see you at the bookstore, Kristen," Massie said firmly. I hardly had time to figure out how she already knew my name when Derrick pried the various cups of water and alcohol from my hands and pushed me out the door.

"What the hell was that all about?" I asked, fighting back a burp. Derrick rubbed my back encouragingly before throwing his whole arm around my shoulders. We teetered down the road back towards the car. I knew neither of us should be driving, but something about the way he held me close made me believe that he could get us home safely.

"Something that could change the course of the summer if we don't get it under control now," he mumbled. I almost asked him to explain, but quickly changed my mind; I wasn't in the mood for long answers and other people's drama.

We drove slowly through the muggy Florida night, careful to defer to other drivers and pedestrians. When we finally reached the Lyons' house, he got out of the car with me. I slid my hand into his and led him back to the guest house door.

"Should we?" I asked, fiddling with the lock.

"Well, someone's got to be a gentleman and help you out of your wet clothes," he said.

"How courteous of you," I whispered before pushing open the door and leading him inside.

-x-

We woke up early, almost at the same time, and I knew that neither of us were going to tell Todd or Olivia what had happened. We got to do something they couldn't under their self-imposed rules, and it didn't feel right to brag.

He gathered up his things while I worked on getting my bedroom window open. He hopped out of the window easily enough and paused for a moment to kiss me through it before disappearing into the dawn. It was the kind of Romeo and Juliet moment that I rarely allowed myself to have.

I spent the rest of my day lounging in the living room of the guest house, watching Todd run in and out as he performed various weekend chores for his parents. Olivia flitted in and out of the room as well, taking phone calls from her own parents and getting snacks from the main house.

From the way she tripped, it was almost as if she wanted me to find out. But it really was just an accident—she was texting away with one hand and balancing a bowl of popcorn in the other when she slipped on a fallen devotional. Popcorn exploded all over the room while her phone flew out of her hand and skidded to a stop, screen-up, just by my feet. I picked it up and read the message on her screen without thinking.

"You can't tell me that you love me one minute and then say that you're not ready to leave him yet the next," the text read.

It was from Danny Robbins.

I quickly locked her phone and thrust it in her direction. She'd been preoccupied with cleaning up the popcorn for the moment, but my gesture brought her back to the gravity of what had been on her screen. She snatched her phone out of my hand, turning bright red as she did so.

I reached over to pick up the devotional and handed that to her as well. "This needs to go on a shelf or something," I said.

I began heading back towards my room when she finally spoke up. "I know what you saw, and I'm not ashamed of it."

I whipped back around. "You're not?"

"You wouldn't be able to understand this because you can't even be convinced to go to Young Life, let alone church, but I've seen God's plan for me and it doesn't include Todd in my future," she said, her voice shaking.

"That may be, but at least I went to Sunday school long enough to catch the lesson on fidelity," I snapped before slamming my door.

With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone and texted Derrick, "She's cheating on him."

He called me not even five seconds later.

"Come to my grandparent's dock," he said. "I've got a story to tell you."


End file.
